The Aquila
by foxiekenway
Summary: Who knew that tagging Connor along to a voyage on The Aquila could be such a heart-throbbing experience for a damsel like you?
1. Chapter 1

**_AN: Hey pretty readers, this is my first AC fanfiction ever. It is a short story; I'm planning for it to be several parts (perhaps 3-4). I'm editing part 2 right now, should be up in a day or two. Oh, one more very important thing: I actually made this as a reader-insert. However, because this is my first time writing, it is difficult for me to write it without a name, or a face, or a character. So I made my OC, Mia, and you, yes you, are her. I hope it isn't messed up and that you would enjoy! :D_**

 ** _Disclaimer: I do not own Assassin's Creed and its characters. Perhaps I own my OC, but since I put you as my OC, well, I don't know what I own._**

 **PART 1**

This early morning you dashed to the seashore where The Aquila was docked. The wind was a little chilly, but you didn't mind. The air was fresh as ever, and the sun was shining brightly. It would be a very beautiful morning if only you did not discover something. Your bag was hanging on your back, your huntress outfit was swinging gracefully with every move you made. No, you know you were never a huntress, but living in the colonial era and moreover, in Davenport Homestead, this huntress outfit might be the perfect choice for running compared to the long, cleavage-showing dress.

You had managed to live well in the foreign land, the land in which you were dumped by your aristocratic family from Europe simply because they found you not of their blood, but that of a lowly servant's. And you didn't wish to return to the awful memory. Instead, gratitude always filled your heart whenever this thought sprung up on your mind, as to thank Achilles and Connor who had gracefully accepted you the day Connor found you almost dead in the frontier. They took you in and cared for you, making sure you _live,_ as your survival skill was even lower than those of the fox's. As time went, though, you learn bit by bit of how to survive, basic hunting and living outdoor skills, basic 'combat' skills. The last 'combat' lesson you learnt well was how-to-attack-groin-when-cornered. Connor did suffer.

Your long hair, tied into a ponytail, swung side to side as you ran. _A little more,_ you gasped for air, _just a little more and I'm there!_ You thought, encouraging yourself. This was all Connor's fault that you had to run. You knew from Achilles that this morning Connor would leave the Homestead for a voyage to the Cuban islands, for what matter it was not too clear. He had kept this from you, and oh what a mistake he had made! You were SO gonna get there, SO gonna go on the voyage with him. How on earth would he leave you and not say a word?! The voyage itself, as fast as it would be, would take two to three months. Wouldn't you miss him? Your cheeks turned red at the thought of that, you were not sure. _Why would I miss him?_ You would like to think that it was the idea of open seas and travelling on a ship that enchanted you. Connor could not go without you. He. must. not.

From a distance, you could see a busy crowd of men, must be the crew of The Aquila. Not far there, sat a man named Peg Leg which talked in a fancy way. Huffing and puffing, you arrived at the dock, and at that point you were panting for life. You regretted skipping morning runs which Connor encouraged you to. Of course, being the only female there, eyes of the men darted to your being – your half panting, half yelling being.

"CONNOR!" You yelled on top on your lungs, head turning around and around to look for the native assassin. It was no way he could not hear you. NO, you thought, this could be _dangerous_. Perhaps he pretended not to hear you, he could be in that big ship of his, in the captain's cabin, and when you were searching for him, poof! The ship would sail! That should not happen! Growling impatiently, you ran once more through the dock and on to the ship. Sure enough, the crew tried to stop you but hell, you could care less. It was their captain that you needed.

As soon as you were about to climb up the stairs to the wheel deck, the door of the captain's cabin opened and out from it the gorgeous native assassin you had been looking for, complete in his captain attire. For a moment you stood there dumbfounded, gaping, admiring. You never saw him in such a fashion. His navy blue coat matched him perfectly, and his captain's hat only outlined his face more. Your eyes widened at the view of him, it was not the first time your little girl's heart stopped beating for a moment.

"Mia? What are you doing here?" Connor, as surprised as he was, could not hide the annoyance on his face accompanied by the gentleness of his voice. He knew trouble would come. And you were his trouble this time. He had tried to keep the voyage from you but it seemed you got your way nevertheless. He blamed the old man.

Connor approached you in an unamused style. He stopped right in front of you, his brows furrowed seeing your little baggage and your huntress outfit. _She must be up to something,_ he thought.

"What am I doing here? Jesus, Connor! Why did you hide this from me? I am going with you to the Cubans!" You frowned like a little girl. You wanted it, and you were gonna get it. At least that was what on your mind.

Connor crossed his arms in front of his broad chest, his eyes scrutinizing your soul, and he sighed. "Go home." Then he turned away, walking towards the stairs.

 _What?_

"Excuse me?"

"I said go home." He was persistent.

"Connor!" You tugged at his elbow, he kept walking, and you had to drag along. "Connor, please! Why won't you let me go with you? I promise I be good. Please, please, please…" You whimpered.

He gently peeled your fingers away, turned to you and helped you get up. Wasn't he so sweet despite being irritated?

"Mia, it is dangerous out there." He raised one hand as to point out the last word, "I cannot let you go with me because I don't want you to get hurt or slow me down. This is a mission, not a vacation. That is why I kept this from you because I know you would tag along." His hazel eyes stared at you point-blank, his voice stern. Damn stoic.

"I know, I know! But please, I promise I will take care not to get hurt, I promise! I won't be a bother too, I will behave. Please, Connor…" Your voice changed, and he could notice that your eyes had gone watery. Connor shook his head in exasperation. He might have dealt with The Templars, Redcoats, drunken crew members, but not with a nagging girl on the edge of crying.

"Would you please act your age?" And by acting your age he meant acting as an adult. For him, 18 was a legal age to act like an adult. No wonder he was 20 and he acted like a father to you.

"I am acting my age! Come on, Connor. I beg you," you grabbed his arm once more, only to unintentionally made a scene to which all the crew on Aquila stopped whatever they were doing to watch their Captain being nagged by a young woman.

Connor had to peel your hand away again, and this time, not wanting to draw more attention from his crew, he sighed defeat. "Fine. However, I demand you obey my words so long as we are on the ship. Understood? And stay where it is safe. I cannot risk you getting hurt." His words caused you to squeak like a school girl, you jumped out of excitement and hugged him tight, a habit. Connor tensed up at your action, to which you immediately released, your cheeks cherry red and your mouth beaming with grin.

"Thank you, Connor! I promise, I promise!" You giggled, jumped around and to the wheel deck, screaming excitement multiple times before greeting Mr. Faulkner, to which he greeted back with the good old laugh of his.

If Connor wanted to hide his amusement he should have tried harder. He tried to suppress the little smile – or more like a chuckle – seeing you. At last he shook his head with a tight guarded smile, and took the wheel.

Now that you thought about his words again, butterflies started to fill your stomach. " _I cannot risk you getting hurt."_ Does it mean anything? Does he care that much about you? You smiled yourself silly as your cheeks heated up while you were gazing onto the horizon as the ship had started to sail.

"Full sail!" The captain commanded. From behind, you saw Connor steered the wheel in such a manly way, his legs spread wide, and his muscles contracting with every move he made on the wheel, although they were hidden behind those fabric. You wished you were the wheel.

"You heard the capt'n! Full sail! Catch every inch of wind!" Mr. Faulkner, the quartermaster of The Aquila, shouted to the crew.

The wind blew into your face, the smell of salty sea filled your nostril. You rested your elbows on the wooden railing of the ship behind you, and sighed relieve. Finally you were on board, watching the native assassin run the voyage. This 'free' feeling never occurred to you before. Yes, you felt free when you ran across the Homestead – or more like several yards of the Homestead in front of Achilles' manor or sometimes near Warren and Prudence's land, well, because you couldn't run far or fast. Truth be said. You felt free at that time when you stood on top of a mountain, the river and fields bowing under you. With Connor watching over, of course. But this feeling, it was a different one. An open sea triggered nausea, you used to think, but now it wasn't true. It triggered a sense of freedom.

The crew of the Aquila started to sing sea shanties. Surely everyone was in a good mood with the warm light of the sun showering them. From such short distance, you could hear the brief conversation Mr. Faulkner had with Connor.

"You surely have somethin' goin' on with the lass, aye Connor?" the old chap asked. You froze on your feet. Surely he knew that you could hear them, didn't he?

"What do you mean, Mr. Faulkner?" Connor, focusing on the traffic of the sea, and by traffic it meant rocks and cliffs, asked back with the gentle yet stoic voice of his.

Mr. Faulkner laughed, harder than he needed to. "Don't fool me, young man!" He slapped Connor's shoulder, hard enough to make Connor glared but in confusion.

"I'm afraid I really do not understand what you're trying to say, Mr. Faulkner."

"You really—" Mr. Faulkner coughed, amused that Connor wasn't fooling around when he said he didn't understand. The poor young man _really_ had no idea what the older one was talking about. "You ain't got a clue?" Then he laughed again, now more sympathy filled in his tone.

Connor shook his head. Drops of sweat began to appear so far as you could notice, as his maneuvers on the wheel surely was a sort of sport. Delicious sight. _If only you went sweaty on me.._ Stop! You scolded yourself.

"Well, boy. What I mean is – let's make it simple. You and the lass –what is her name again? Mia, is it? – like each other. I be damned if I'm wrong!" _Damn,_ you thought, _how could he…_

"We, what?" Connor's face heated a little, the color changing. "I don't think the idea of… I'm not sure—" He shifted in his robe. You felt butterflies in your stomach, as Connor shifted more uncomfortably and suddenly turned his head back, as if to locate you behind. And he did locate you. Now that he did, he was sure you could hear the talk, and he sighed. "Mr. Faulkner, I don't think it is wise to talk about such subject on an important trip as this one."

Deep down, you were upset. You wished that he would… Ah, but how could he possibly have any feelings towards you anyway? You pouted unintentionally, twisting and curling your now loose hair in front of your chest.

"Aye, Capt'n. We shall find out, shall we?" Faulkner laughed again. The boy was so naïve, he thought. But the lights of his eyes and _your_ eyes when the two of you met, they could not lie. He was too experienced that just a sight of you two could bring him to his final judgment that you and the assassin were both crushing hard. Love or not, he wasn't sure. But like, crush, yes. Hard.

 ** _AN: So how was that? Feel free to comment. And I'm sorry if there are any errors; English is a foreign language to me. Moreover, my fic writing skill is as near as zero (seriously, when I write it is usually just essays for college stuffs) so be easy on me please and do review! :)_**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2 is up! Thank you for following/favoriting :)**

 **Warning: Little or no research was done prior to writing; little do I know of the terms used for the body of a ship (i only know them from the games) *hides* forgive my laziness but i hope you'll get it. Enjoy the happy times while you can!**

-A few days (you lost count) passed-

The day went about peacefully, not a single trouble you caused, not a single trouble the Aquila faced on the sea. You were given a tiny cabin of your own below the deck, but truthfully you hated it. The crew's quarter was there too, only a few feet away from your cabin. All the noise, smell, and oh you didn't want to mention more, had to be ignored in order to reluctantly sleep. You sighed. After some peace and quiet, you decided to walk around on the ship before boredom could get the best out of you. Connor shot you a where-are-you-going glare as you walked by him, to which you replied with a yawn.

"I'm just going to walk around, alright?"

"Fine. Just be careful. Do not –"

"I know!" You exclaimed cheerfully, your eyes brightened, having to cut him before he set out any annoying rules. A _fine_ is a _fine_ , and the rest of the sentence doesn't matter. You had run off before he could finish his sentence, earning yourself a deadly stare. An intoxicating, calming, deadly stare. How could a stare be so… Goddamnit, you lost your mind.

At the far end of the ship, you noticed a box under what seemed like a very tall wooden pole. A hook was on top of the box, and there was some kind of tool beside the box. Your eyes traveled up it. There, you saw a small platform very high up there, and still above that, the flag of the Aquila was flown. Interesting, you thought. A crew walked passed you, climbed on the box, wrap his hands tightly around the hook, and kicked the tool beside the box. O-oh! You gasped. He went up there easily! Now you understood the function of it all. The little urge of adrenaline rush inside you began to soar. But Connor, would he…

The crew man was suddenly zipping down in front of you some feet away. His hands were wrapped tightly on a hook again, this time the hook that brought him down. He rushed to Connor, perhaps giving a report of some sort. Perhaps the one that sounded like, 'Capt'n! There are trees on the island up front!' You chuckled at your own funny thought. Wait, was it even funny?

No, because what was funnier was your feet. They brought you up on the box, not like you noticed it! Sure, sure you did notice that you were walking towards and up on the box, didn't you? Naughty girl. You scolded yourself with a grin. Your heart beat faster, and before anyone could stop you, your hands were already on the hook and your right foot kicking the tool.

ZAPPPP!

"AAAAAAHHHHH!" You screamed. On top of your lungs. The Aquila suddenly halted for an immediate stop, and you knew it was bad because the Captain must have known you were up here. God. Your landing on the small platform wasn't so smooth, you dropped painfully on the wooden plank. Your knees shook from the mere height you were standing right now. However, the experience was so intense! As soon as you gained your confidence back, you started to breathe in the height. It was purely awesome. Until someone took the hook and went up too.

"What do you think you are doing?"

You turned your head to the voice, and there was the Captain of the Aquila standing on the same platform, his body only inches away from you.

"Connor, it was so fun! I swear I had never felt such rush of fun before!" Your hands still gripped on the pole badly, as the Aquila started to half-sail again, perhaps by Mr. Faulkner.

Connor shook his head while his eyes were fixed on you, inching forward and took you by the arms. No words.

"Connor! Connor! What are you doing? Stop!" You protested, trying to pry his arms away to no result.

"I must be the one questioning you." He stopped, "Do you not know that it is dangerous to be up here? I told you to listen to me while on the ship and you promised." His hands were still on your arms, preventing you from falling.

You could not help but immediately soften upon his remark. He was right. "I'm sorry I just…" you frowned, "I was just bored."

Connor sighed. "The sea is not always stable. Should it meet high wave or rough wind you could easily fall from here, given your lack of experience being on a ship." He explained to you as if you were a child. You hated being treated like a child, but he looked genuine.

"I'm sorry." Your face reddened, and you looked down.

"Good." Connor said, "Let us go back down."

"But… can we sit here for a while? Just for a while, please?" You tugged gently at the hem of his front coat, as per habit. You literally begged with puppy eyes. You said "we" because he wouldn't let you be up here alone anymore minute, but actually deep inside you just wanted his company.

To the wonder of the world, Connor agreed with a nod. Both of you sat down on the platform, both exhaling upon enjoying the view of nature from such a high place. You hugged your knees, and to your right, Connor sat at his usual easy pose. His hands rested on his spread-wide knees. The wind blew even harder, your loose hair spread around, twirling and dancing with the wind. Some arrived on Connor's face, which made you giggle. He gently brushed them away and with a controlled motion he tucked it to the back of your ear, his fingertips gently brushing your earlobe. Your giggling stopped, your heart pumped faster instead. How such a small gesture could bring the butterflies back! You wished your hair would fly into his face again and he would do that again and again, you _loved_ the gesture. You gazed at him, trying to study his expression. You found none, but there was some kind of peace. An eased and rested face, unlike his usual furrowed-brow Connor.

"Connor?" Your gaze was still on his face, you called him. "Are you angry?" You asked softly.

"No." He turned to face you, his hazel eyes piercing into yours and you had to look away. "I was concerned about your safety. Do not mistake it as my anger." His tone gentle.

You had nothing to say, so you nodded.

A moment passed between the two of you, a peaceful silence. It was not unbearable, but you decided to break it.

"Do you…really care that much?" A stupid question to break the silence. You cursed at your brain.

Connor's expression was unreadable – as always. But he looked at you in such a manner that you flinched. Then he turned his gaze forward, to the sea, and answered. "I do." That was it, and that was that. But it was enough, because an affirmative from Connor never needs any explanatory sentences trailing behind. The phrase resonated in your mind, and you kept it that way.

"Mia?" You turned your head and found his eyes on you. "Don't do it again next time. Not without my watch." Connor didn't blink any bit, he was down-straight serious, apart from being down-straight gorgeous.

"Alright." was all you could say, with a smile. How easily you were subdued. It was such a beautiful shame.

The wind started to chill; Connor looked up into the sky which started to cast a gloomy shadow. The cloud was forming. Was it the sign for you to go back down? You grunted at the idea, being already in love with this higher place.

"STORM UP AHEAD, CAPTAIN!" A crew man shouted real loud from the net at the right side of the ship, alerting Connor. The captain nodded.

"We should go back." Connor said, and without leaving any time for you to protest, he closed the inches between both of your bodies and slid his arm around your waist, grabbing you tight. "Hold on." He commanded.

"Wait, what—" Your voice was muffled by Connor's sudden leap towards the hanging hook that he took swiftly, and your smaller body cringed in his circle of arm. Sweet Mother Mary, you thought, how much adrenaline rush could you take in one day, eh?

During the seconds of you being "on the air" enclosed to Connor's bigger, protecting body, you buried your head in his chest instead of screaming. But, shite, before you could even breathe, the two of you reached the ground with a thump, Connor's arm securing your body more so that you wouldn't fall.

"Go below deck or to my cabin." He ordered you, and you noticed his hands were already off your waist. Why wouldn't it linger any longer… "Now." Shoot.

With confusion you obeyed, walking towards the captain's cabin instead of the first choice. Meanwhile, Connor rushed to the wheel and took it from Mr. Faulkner, shouting "Half sail! Prepare for storm!" to the crew. This loud voice was the very one that told you softly that he cared. Fuck hormone, you dashed into the cabin before the captain's eyes caught you not obeying again.

 **Do review! :D**


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